


warm glow

by lookoutlovers



Series: maybe we’re from the same star [1]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, very very soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers/pseuds/lookoutlovers
Summary: prompt:eliott and lucas’ fingers are intertwined but lucas is sleeping and eliott has their hands resting on his stomach and he’s reading some book while rubbing his thumb over lucas’ skin.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: maybe we’re from the same star [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850386
Comments: 11
Kudos: 149





	warm glow

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/post/623293885963272192/eliott-and-lucas-fingers-intertwined-but-lucas-is)
> 
> a little birthday present to lucas i guess :)

eliott flicks over the page of the book with one hand, a little awkwardly, the other still clasped in lucas’ — his grip tight even in sleep.

 _madame bovary_ , it is. not eliott’s preferred genre, really, but lucas had needed to read it for class, and he’d been complaining about it all week, because, _it’s just so unbelievably boring eliott, you don’t understand. every time i open it i want to die._ which, is really quite dramatic, eliott thinks, he doesn’t remember it being _that_ bad. but he had offered to read it to lucas instead, anyway, that way all he had to do was listen.

turns out, though, his boyfriend couldn’t even manage that, as just five pages in, eliott had glanced down to find lucas fast asleep against his shoulder.

eliott had huffed out a light laugh, heart swelling at the way lucas’ cheek looked squished into eliott’s t-shirt, before manoeuvring them both into a more comfortable position, eliott’s back against the armrest of the sofa, lucas splayed over his chest, their hands intertwined over eliott’s stomach.

he finds himself mindlessly falling back into the book again, only this time reading to just himself instead of aloud. the apartment is completely still, soundless save for the quiet breaths that slip from lucas’ parted lips. every so often eliott runs his thumb over the back of lucas’ hand, finding comfort in the soft skin there, how familiar it is.

eliott is reading, but he’s thinking, too. his eyes flit over the words on each page but he already knows how it ends, so instead his mind drifts and he thinks of lucas. he thinks about how he’d woken eliott up just this morning with a bag of freshly baked croissants and a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils, how they sit on the table now, drinking in the last breaths of sunlight that spill in through their kitchen window.

and he thinks about that night last week he had come home from work late to find lucas asleep with his head on the coffee table, books and papers surrounding him like something out of a cartoon. eliott had shuffled over, lowering onto the floor and gathering lucas up in his arms, before carrying him into bed, where lucas had only let out a soft hum and snuggled deeper into eliott’s side. how they’d fallen asleep like that, together, just as they do every other night.

then, another. the time unknown to eliott now, how he had raced in through the front door after being at urbex, breathless from tackling the stairs, this wide grin on his face and a frantic feeling in his chest that was maybe excitement or probably something else, he didn’t really care, all he had been able to think about was that he needed to tell lucas this — this: _i love you._ he had gasped it out, _i love you, i love you, i love you._ over and over. and lucas, bless him, had been standing there in the kitchen, a half eaten packet of salted popcorn in his hand, looking a little bit bewildered, but mostly soft. then he’d set the popcorn down onto the bench and held his arms out, a silent plea, _come here,_ he’d mumbled. eliott crashed into him, his grin even wider, _i love you’s,_ spilling out almost desperately.

lucas just held him, said _i love you_ , right back, just as many times, the words warm in the crook of eliott’s neck. he doesn’t know how long they stood there for, but he recalls that feeling, right in the very centre of his chest, spreading to the ends of his fingertips like waves. _euphoric,_ was the feeling; he recalls every feeling.

when lucas stirs awake, eliott has already made it through half of the book. the living room, now bathed in a warm orange glow, seems to hug them like a blanket, soft tones spilling over lucas’ pink stained cheeks like brushstrokes.

“hi,” eliott smiles down at him. lucas blinks a few times, all adorably disorientated.

“hi,” he says back, quietly, rubbing his eye with a clenched fist. “how long was i asleep for?”

“not long. an hour or so.” lucas hums, tucking his head back under eliott’s chin. “you couldn’t even make it past chapter two with me.”

“sorry,” lucas huffs out a sleepy laugh, his hand untangling from eliott’s to hug his waist. he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, actually, but eliott doesn’t mention it.

“it’s okay,” he sets the book down, wrapping his arms around lucas’ shoulders instead. “you’re so cute when you’re asleep.”

a grumble is pressed into his skin, one that vibrates across his chest, that causes him to press a smile into lucas’ hair. it smells like lavender shampoo, like summer and warmth. eliott’s heart, like it always seems to do around lucas, melts. it trembles and then spills out, like a waterfall between his ribcage.

when lucas glances up at him his eyes are so unbelievably blue, reflecting in the light like a sunset over water. and he’s so pretty, so goddamn gorgeous — the soft wisp of eyelashes against cheeks, the tender press of fingers to skin, lips that are the most wonderful shade of red you’ll ever see — eliott loves him so much he feels as though his heart might explode.

“i told you,” lucas adds on, “french lit is just not my thing.”

“i know, my love. it’s okay. i know how it ends anyway, how about i just summarise it for you?”

at this lucas grins. “please,” he says, “but another time, maybe? right now i just want to lie here with you.” he nuzzles back into eliott’s side, hands fisting into his hoodie to hold him closer. the warmth of him is nice, familiar, so _achingly familiar,_ it makes eliott’s chest ache.

“of course. whatever you want.”

“i love you,” lucas murmurs, the cadence of his voice softening as though slipping back into sleep.

“i love you too.”

eliott wraps lucas into his arms until there is no part of them that isn’t touching, and like this — the sun falling below buildings, leaving only vague shadows within the apartment, lucas breathing softly against the exposed skin of eliott’s neck, their hands finding each other once again — they lie together.

and sleep, when it pulls them under, like in the mesmerising way the sun tugs the sky, is warm, and it’s tender. and eliott is so in love he may as well be sleeping in clouds.

love, they say, tends to have that effect on people.

eliott, he recalls most feelings. and this one, especially, well, it’s exquisite.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi [@lumierelovers](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/) ! 🦋


End file.
